


Watch Me Burn

by cassiem



Category: Block B
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4903618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiem/pseuds/cassiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jihoon is a very, very good vampire. After a milennia, he is finally on top of the world: he rules Seoul and has everyone under his thumb. Life is pretty much perfect – until the day he meets Jaehyo, a human who doesn't really act like a human, changing both their futures forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> Before I start I should warn you that this story is very violent! Please don't read if you're sensitive to that kind of thing. If you're not, read on...

_Crucify me, and nail my hands to a wooden cross_  
_There is nothing above, there is nothing below_  
_Heaven and Hell lives in all of us_  
_And I've been cast astray_

_BMTH - Crucify Me_

 

Jihoon is a very, very good vampire. After all, you don’t get to the top without being the best (and taking down others in your way), and that’s where he is now. He’s got an entire city under his thumb, and the pick of victims left, right and center. He should be on top of the world right now, quite literally, but he has a thorn in his side.

This man.

He sits in front of him, petrified, fingers clenching on the bed. He is extraordinarily, absurdly pretty, brown hair falling over his deep brown eyes, lips pink and full. Jihoon paces in front of him, allowing his fangs to grow a little bit longer, his facial features more sharp, eyes darker. He adds a little height, too, as if he wasn’t tall enough already.

He pauses in front of the man, wondering how to approach this one. Every victim is different, this one more so – this one he’s had his eye on for a while now, this one he’s been _watching_ , and he wants to make it special, leech as much life out of him as he can. Would he fall for the traditional sort of vampire, like Dracula? Or something more modern, like _Twilight_?

While he’s debating, the man’s eyes are focussed on something behind him - the window. He, of course, knows what Jihoon is, knows that if he moves a muscle Jihoon will rip his throat out before his brain can even begin processing the movement, but his eyes stay fixed on the window. He doesn’t move, for now, but Jihoon is on his guard. He doesn’t want to kill the man, but he will if he has to. Victims in this city are all too easy to find (although none, he suspects, will be as satisfying as this one).

He lunges, charging at the man, making him scrabble backwards on the bed, hands gripping for purchase. Jihoon plants two arms on either side of the man’s shoulders, and curls his lip up in a sneer, allowing him to see the ridiculously long fangs that slide out of his mouth with a soft _snick_. He watches the man’s eyes widen, feels him start trembling, hears his heart start up a staccato rhythm. He can _feel_ the fear, it’s calling to him now, winding through this poor thing’s blood, and he has to stop himself from just biting down now.

Instead, he nuzzles the man’s neck, allowing his fangs to hover above the beating artery that rests there, lets his tongue lick a path up his neck. The man’s fear increases and Jihoon can almost taste it now, he’s nearly there.

He’s always had trouble coming up with snappy lines to use on victims like this. There’s always the classic, “any last words?”, but it doesn’t really inspire fear, it just makes him sound like the villain from a bad 80s movie. He runs through some more lines in his head, but the man is trembling now, his fear beginning to leech into Jihoon, and he knows he can’t last much longer – his bloodlust is about to take over.

“I’m going to rip your fucking throat out.” He growls. A bit crude, perhaps, but it does the trick – his fear peaks, his life starting to flow into Jihoon already.

“Pyo.” The man breathes, touching Jihoon’s cheek gently.

Jihoon's world shatters.

A rage that he has never felt before fills him, and he lashes out, flinging the man across the room and into the wall, and holding him there with his mind. He knows what the full effects of power like this feels like – the man is in agony right now – but still he does not relent.

Roaring, he stalks closer to the man, who is immobile, pinned underneath the weight of Jihoon’s power. “Where did you learn that name?” He screams, not caring if the others hear him. They all would have felt this explosion of power, anyway.

All through it, the man is so terrified that his life is still flowing into Jihoon, allowing him to feel what the man is feeling. He’s not able to read thoughts – unlike others, he just was never able to do it – but he can feel the intense fear, and underneath that, something like… Smugness?

Jihoon grabs the man by the neck and throws him across to the other side of the room, watching the man slam into the wall and fall to the ground, coughing. He allows him to catch his breath, before pushing him backwards with his mind again; the man is still smug.

“Heard… the others… talking…” He chokes out.

He can’t stop himself, too much of this man has flowed into him (without even taking any blood) that he can’t do anything except watch in slow motion, from some distant corner of his mind, as he crosses the room and sinks his fangs into the man’s neck and drinks, getting the full release immediately.

While the man was giving life before, it’s nothing compared to this, nothing compared to the full extent of his life force being sucked out of him and into Jihoon. He feels himself growing lighter and lighter, as the man grows weaker and weaker, mind focused on nothing but the blood.

The man’s arms come around to embrace him, and it shocks him for a second, but he doesn’t stop, can’t stop – this man is a drug, and he’s hooked, and he keeps drinking and drinking, determined to quell the war that rages inside of him, drinks to forget he ever heard that name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, ever since I finished I'll Have You, my other vampire fic, I wanted to write a more gritty vampire fic, and this was my chance. I went all out, writing about the violent side of vampires: after all, we tend to romanticise them, but they're still pretty hardcore if you think about it! 
> 
> So anyway. I hope you enjoy, this was a lot of fun for me to write. 
> 
> prompt: how's about a vampire-ish au where jihoon is the leader of a gang of vampires? and then he has them capture a human jaehyo for him, then tells his comrades that he's only going to use jaehyo for his (delicious) pretty-boy blood, but ends up just being really sweet and gentle with him in secret (and there could maybe be some sexy neck bites in there if you so please!)


	2. two

_You won't miss the water,_  
_Till the river runs dry_  
 _You won't miss the sunset,_  
 _Till it burns out the sky_  
 _You won't miss what you have,_  
 _Till it's finally lost_

_Blacklist - BMTH_

 

_back_

Jihoon’s so old now that he can resist the effects of sunlight – at least for a little while. He still can’t walk directly into it, of course – that would be suicide – but he can stay up past dawn, watch the sky grow pink and the first rays of sunlight begin to kiss the horizon. After a millennia of darkness, this is the closest he can get to the sun, which always taunts him with what he cannot have.

Mornings like this, where he can almost, _almost_ taste the sun’s rays on his skin make him incredibly melancholy. He’s been around for too long, seen too much, and as a result, is jaded and uncaring – which is perhaps why he’s so ruthless: he is unafraid of any consequences. If he dies, so be it.

How he’s lasted this long is beyond him.

His eyes are beginning to shut now, the instinctual urge to burrow, to dig, to hide away screaming at him. He feels itchy all over, so he closes the curtains, taping them back up, and heads to his (completely blacked out) bedroom, where he collapses on the bed, falling instantly into a sleep that is more like death than anything else.

//

Seoul is a big city, in terms of vampire population. It’s a capital, which always have a higher number than any other city, as well as having a huge population of humans. It means that Jihoon, as head vampire of the city, has to keep an eye on every single vampire that walks in and out of his area. He does this with what he likes to call his ‘network’ – various lesser vampires that work for him, in return for favours and easier access to prey. He’s built up quite a lot of underlings over the years, even a few that he trusts a little – not enough to turn his back on, of course – and he lives like a king, barely even needing to hunt himself these days.

Not that it’s easy, he thinks, pouring himself a bourbon on the rocks and studying his evidence. His study has been transformed into more of a spy room, with scribbles all over the walls, detailing movements of various vampires in and out of his territory. He has to keep an eye on everyone, make sure they don’t cause trouble or go on a killing spree (which does happen, more often than you think). If they do, he has to deal with another area vampire.

That doesn’t worry him, though. He strolls over to study the name of a particular vampire and smirks. He’s probably the oldest vampire in Seoul, perhaps even in Asia. Despite being impossible to kill (by mortals only, of course), there is a very high turnover rate. It’s why he prides himself on being careful, having his nose to the ground and knowing the movement of everyone in his city. He’s only had a few spats over the years, and all have ended with his victory: a testament to his age and strength.

Along with immortality, being a vampire has a few extra perks. He has limited shape-shifting abilities – nothing as drastic as changing genders or species, but he can edit his own facial features a little, change his height and tweak things here or there. The more afraid a human is of him, the more life force he’ll get from them, so he uses this power often. There’s the standard superhuman speed, strength and rapid healing, as well as supernatural power that flows around him, appearing to humans as charisma and a certain ‘aura’, drawing them in – and crimson eyes, which he always shapeshifts away back to his original brown. He’s not weak to garlic, or running water, or silver, or crosses, or bibles, or any of the other stupid things mortals have come up with over the years. The only thing that can kill him is another vampire more powerful than he, and since none exists, he’s pretty sure he’s safe.

There’s a knock on the door, and one of his inner circle enters. He’s known Sooah for a few hundred years, now, and considers her his right hand woman. She’s tall, almost as tall as him, with striking, sharp facial features that Jihoon knows for a fact are shifted on.

“What?” He asks. It’s early, he’s just woken up; what on earth is she bothering him for?

She looks uncomfortable, and instantly he’s furious. Sooah prides herself on being unflinching, so much so that Jihoon’s only seen her smile twice. Any show of emotion is incredibly rare, and now she looks… guilty?

“Jihoon. You put me in charge of that new vampire in the area – Jiho? Woo Jiho?” She begins, chin jutted forward.

He tilts his head, imploring her to continue, even though he already knows where this is going. Woo Jiho is known, all throughout Asia, as trouble with a capital T. Everywhere he goes, he leaves bloodshed in his wake, but he’s surprisingly slippery and no one so far has managed to catch him, much to everyone’s dismay. A rogue vampire reflects badly on _all_ of them, and he had put Sooah on the case, thinking she’d get the job done and end Jiho once and for all.

“We… we lost his trail, yesterday.” She says, still unwavering, but he can feel her fear now. It doesn’t give him life, like mortal fear does, but he can taste it anyway. “We woke up today to this.”

She produces a newspaper and he snatches it, eyes scanning the headline: ‘ _Ten dead, dozens more injured in nighttime massacre._ ’ The text below describes Jiho’s MO perfectly – bodies all drained of blood, arranged in some sick pattern. There’s a particularly gruesome photo of one of the victims, a pretty girl of only 20 or so.

Fist clenching, completely shattering the glass of bourbon, he unleashes a wave of power, directed solely at her – she flinches back against the wall, but does not waver, continues looking him in the eye. His fury attacks her in waves. “You failed me!” He roars, backing her up against the wall, hand on her throat.

“Sorry.” She gasps, and instantly Jihoon lets his power die away. He can feel it crackling around him like electricity, making sparks appear out of thin air.

He sees the hope returns to her eyes – hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll let her live – and turns, drawing a shard of glass across her throat, slitting it wide open.

“Wrong answer.” He snarls in her face, watching as the life drains out of her.

She explodes, then, one of the more unfortunate side effects of killing a vampire. Jihoon shuts his eyes as her blood washes over him, and when he opens them again there’s nothing left of Sooah’s body, but the entire room is coated in blood, running from the walls and ceiling. Sighing, he reaches inside his jacket for his cigarettes, relieved that they, at least, were spared the worst of it.

That’s how one of the others finds him – smoking, covered in blood, in a room dripping with murder.

//

After he’s had a shower and had the room cleaned, which doesn’t take long at all, he settles into the chair behind his desk with a fresh glass of bourbon and thinks.

The MO is exactly the same as the other crimes – the ‘art’ is Jiho’s calling card. He’d hoped that Jiho would keep his head down and move through Korea without killing, but his hope hadn’t lasted long. Now, the vampire eyes are all on him, and how he deals with this problem, meaning Jiho needs to be stopped, before any more humans get killed, drawing even _more_ attention to Seoul.

He starts to call for Sooah, but stops himself, cursing under his breath. Perhaps he shouldn’t have killed her; finding another right hand man will be difficult, especially as he can think of no one whom he trusts with the responsibilities. However, she failed him, and she knew what happened to people who failed him. She’d seen it happen to countless others before, even killed a few when Jihoon didn’t want to get his hands dirty. She walked into that room knowing her fate.

So he stands up and strolls into the living room. There’s a few others milling around – the only time he’s alone is when he’s sleeping – and they all nod in his direction before going back to what they were doing before. He walks into his closet and picks a jacket, slinging it over his shoulders, heading to the door, checking his wallet is in his pocket.

“Where are you going?” Yejun asks tentatively, and Jihoon turns.

He actually really likes Yejun. He’s young, so young that he’s practically a baby in terms of vampire years, but is earnest and naive in a sweet way. Jihoon had found him trying to drink from the president of an important company; he’d carefully dragged the young vampire away and explained to him the importance of starting off small. Yejun had stuck around after that, and Jihoon had taken a liking to him.

Jihoon grimaces. “To stop Jiho.” He says, realising rather belatedly that sounds like a line from a movie, but it makes Yejun smile, and he smiles back as he leaves.

Shrugging on his jacket, he goes down the elevator and exits onto the streets of Gangnam, using shapeshifting to become a little shorter, a little plainer, a little more soft around the edges so he doesn’t stand out too much, weaving in and out of the crowd expertly.

He knows where Jiho hangs out at night, and that is his first stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting there, slowly. Stick around, the next chapter is a good one :)


	3. three

_We've seen the nightmare of the lies that you speak_   
_The beast that I lie beneath is coming in_

_Dull Life - Yeah Yeah Yeahs_

 

Jiho is, primarily, a creature of habit, as evidenced by his modus operandi. Jihoon knows that he hangs out in a club in Apgujeong, surrounded, he’s sure, by a revolving door of women and men to dote on him. He’s been in Seoul for a few months now, and yesterday was his first slaughtering. Jihoon’s sure he’s made others, but they were probably single deaths that went unnoticed – old people or vagrants. Jiho is a psychopath, but he _is_ smart.

He enters the club, keeping his plain appearance. Jiho can sense that he’s here – vampires can sense each others’ auras in close quarters – but he’s not strong enough to pin him down, and he has no idea what Jihoon looks like, so he has the advantage here.

The club is dark and heaving with bodies. Everyone in here has money, and they’ve used it to become beautiful. The air smells like sweat and sex, the heady atmosphere making him feel momentarily dizzy. So many heartbeats, so many wet, hot pulses, all begging to be preyed on – he feels his fangs run out, temporarily distracted by all the flesh around him.

He controls himself, retracting his fangs back in and trying to tamp down the power that buzzes around him. Already, people are starting to stare at him, his power drawing them in. While it would be good to get in a feed, that’s not what he’s here for, so he heads to the bar and orders a drink.

He spots Jiho immediately, in a secluded corner booth. His guess was correct – there is a harem of young mortals surrounding him, and to Jihoon’s vampire eyes, he can see the power radiating off Jiho, pulling them in. It’s a blatant, easy way to get victims, and he snorts into his drink. A beginner’s tactic. It’s much more fun to stalk someone the old fashioned way, to follow them through a dark street, tap them on the shoulder and then slink away, invisible in the night. That’s how you get the most life force from them. Using your aura is cheap, and Jihoon knows Jiho will have to feed much more often because the draw he gets will be so low.

He watches Jiho, stirring his drink occasionally. The young vampire is attractive, and very animated, telling stories loudly, arms waving passionately in the air, making the others all laugh. He looks calm and confident, completely in control of everything, but after a few minutes of watching, Jihoon can see the cracks in his facade. Jiho’s eyes are scanning the room, looking for the vampire that he knows is in here.

Jihoon grins, grateful that he had the foresight to make himself a little more human-looking. Vampires all have a certain look to them – tall and pale, with angular, bony facial features – that make it easy to recognise them if you know what you’re looking for. Jiho can tell that there is a powerful vampire in the room, but he doesn’t know who, or where.

He observes for a little longer, seeing Jiho get progressively more nervous as the night goes on, his gestures turning twitchy, voice trailing off in the middle of sentences. The humans around him are a little unnerved, and when Jiho loses his temper and screams at one poor girl who dares to ask him a question, Jihoon feels the fear flare off her. Jiho notices, too, and Jihoon can practically _see_ the other vampire salivating. He will want to feed soon, and that will be his chance.

He moves from the bar to a booth next to Jiho’s, sliding in and making eye contact with a girl standing nearby. It’ll look less suspicious if he has company, especially with how roomy the booth is. He gestures for her to join him, and she does.

Making conversation with mortals amuses him, even ones as vapid as this. It’s refreshing to talk to someone who isn’t worried about vampire politics, or who has a sinister agenda. The girl blathers on about beauty school, and Jihoon relaxes a little bit. The atmosphere is nice, the music is good, and even his drink isn’t bad. Apart from the murderous slime sitting adjacent him, this could be any regular night out.

Jihoon feels, rather than sees, Jiho get up, and panics, abruptly pulling the girl in for a kiss. This close to each other, Jihoon’s aura will be much more intense, and Jiho may sense it and get suspicious. Thankfully, he barely gives a second glance to them; a mortal couple making out is hardly out of place here in the club, and they look just like any other couple getting hot and heavy.

He leaves the girl and follows Jiho, ignoring the her pleas to stay, feeling a bit sorry. She looked diminutive and easy to frighten, and would have been an easy feed, but as it is he has a job to do. Spilling out onto the street, he spots the vampire, his arm around a mortal man, whispering into his ear.

Curling his lip, he follows at a distance as they make their way down to the riverbank and stroll along it, holding hands. It’s so late and dark that no one gives them a second glance, and Jihoon can hear snippets of their conversation as they walk.

“Dad said I’d never amount to anything, being a musician…”

“...I agree, a degree doesn’t mean...”

“Do you ever get this urge to…”

It’s boring, inane conversation, hardly deserving of a psychopathic serial killer. Jihoon is bored, and a little bit thirsty; maybe he _should_ have drunk from that girl after all… In fact, he starts to daydream about what she would have tasted like, how she would have reacted (scared, or aroused?) when he realises Jiho and the man have turned into an alleyway.

He waits for a moment, ears straining as he tries to hear what’s going on. If he barges around the corner now, Jiho will run, and while he could easily outrun the younger vampire, this suit is brand new and he doesn’t want to ruin two of them in one day. So he listens, trying to hear what’s going on.

There’s the wet sound of flesh on flesh – kissing, probably – and muffled moans, before Jiho pulls back. “You like me, right?” He purrs.

“Yes.” The other man says, and he sounds hypnotised. He isn’t, of course – that’s just not a power any vampire has, handy as it would be – but Jihoon has felt Jiho crank up his aura to about eleven, and the man is feeling the full effects of it.

“Then will you let me do this?” Jiho murmurs, and faintly, Jihoon hears the _snick_ of fangs popping out.

He shakes his head ruefully. What a waste! If he’d been a bit more scary, instilled just a little bit of fear into the man, he could have a huge yield. Instead, Jihoon can barely feel anything, even as he reaches out with all his senses – just the tiniest tinge of fear as Jihoon latches on and begins drinking.

He sidles round the corner and, sure enough, Jiho and the human are backed up against a wall, Jiho drinking from the man. He pauses and watches, still not revealing himself yet; he wants to see how Jiho will handle this.

Still he drinks, and the man starts getting weaker, his legs starting to tremble. Jiho grunts, and shifts his grip, holding the man up with one arm, still drinking away. He should have got enough of a fix by now, even if the man isn’t yielding much, so why is he still taking blood?

Suddenly it dawns on him that Jiho intends to drain this man, and he’s enraged – after all the shit that he did yesterday, he has the nerve, the _gall_ to kill again? In _his_ city?

The human opens his eyes, then, and spots Jihoon over Jiho’s shoulder, and Jihoon freezes, unable to move. The man’s dark brown eyes are deep, so fucking deep, and he almost feels himself falling into them, falling forward –

He unleashes his power in a torrent, revealing himself. Instantly, Jiho turns with a growl, but Jihoon is ready for him, and grabs him by the neck, shifting back to his original form. “You fucking dare to do this?” He cries, dropping Jiho to the ground and kicking him in the stomach. “In my city? You _dare_?”

Vaguely, he’s aware of becoming taller, his nails long and sharp, his fangs growing longer and longer. “You are nothing.” He sneers, crouching down over the younger vampire, who he holds in place with his power. “You are shit on the bottom of my shoe.”

“Please. Please, it was a mistake. I didn’t mean to.” Jiho begs.

Jihoon spits on him. “You’ve killed hundreds of people. _Hundreds_. You slaughtered them all, you fucking animal.”

Jiho coughs, and looks up with a smile. “So have you.” He replies, sweetly.

Jihoon loses it, then. With a roar, he tears into Jiho’s chest and rips out his heart, crushes it in his hand, watching the younger vampire die instantly, watching the life in his eyes bleed away. He still does not move, even as the body explodes, coating the alley – and him, for the second time that day – in blood, his anger slowly fading away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this is taking so long to build up... but jaehyo is finally here :-)


	4. four

_I can feel your shadow over me_   
_I can hear your whisper in my ear_   
_The ocean is bleeding, it's taking me down_   
_I'm falling, you're watching me fall_   
_Chronicles of a Fallen Love - Bloody Beetroots_

 

Slowly, he stands up and reaches for his cigarettes, lighting one up with trembling hands and taking a deep drag. The smoke curls in his lungs, relaxing him, and he closes his eyes, letting his features snap back to normal. When he opens them, the human is standing in front of him, a strange expression on his face, and Jihoon is, again, startled by those eyes; eyes that seem so wise, in such a young face.

“Are you going to kill me?” The human asks, calmly, despite being covered head-to-toe in dark ruby blood.

Jihoon smirks and takes another drag. It’s shock, he’s seen it a million times before – any moment now, the man will break down into a blubbering mess, and Jihoon will have to escort him home with some warnings about not telling anyone. He can feel that the man is scared; not a bone-shaking terror, but he’s still frightened nonetheless. It tastes beautiful.

“No.” He sighs. “I have no need to.”

The man looks down at where Jiho’s body was. “You certainly seemed to have no need to kill _him_. You came out of nowhere.”

Narrowing his eyes, Jihoon crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his shoe. “You’re meddling in things you don’t understand.”

“I’m sure.” The human replies dryly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I really need a shower, so I’ll be going now.”

“Fine.” Jihoon shrugs. “But I’m following you.”

“Fine.” The man replies, stubbornly, and stalks off into the darkness.

Jihoon is amazed, but follows anyway. Never before has he met a human so… Well, so like a vampire – stoic and fearless. Even though the man is afraid, he is doing his very best to hide it, not knowing that Jihoon can feel it coming off him in waves. As he follows the man, who is jogging now, his hunger peaks again, no doubt spurred on by all the violence he has encountered tonight.

“I’m Jaehyo, by the way.” The man shoots back over his shoulder. “And I’m sorry for running, but this is absolutely disgusting.” He gestures down at his blood-stained body.

“Jihoon.” Jihoon replies. “And believe me, there are worse things to be covered in than vampire blood.”

Jaehyo slows to a walk and wrinkles his nose, and Jihoon bites back laughter. “So you’re a vampire? And so is... So was Hyunwoo?”

“Is that what he told you his name was? Yes, he was a vampire. Thankfully isn’t anymore.”

Shaking his head, Jaehyo dips his head back to look at the stars, exposing his throat. “A fucking vampire. Jesus christ.” He sighs, eyes narrowed as he stares into the inky blackness. “A goddamn _vampire_.”

Jihoon watches, trying to ignore the way he can hear Jaehyo’s heartbeat, the way he can see the vein in his neck pulsing as he arches his head back, eyes wide and full of wonder. He’s only known a few humans that know about the existence of vampires, and they’re usually mystics or psychics who keep to themselves – not your everyday, run of the mill uni student. He waits, following Jaehyo doggedly, knowing that silence is the best way to draw out conversation.

“I mean, you read all those stories when you’re a kid, and you see all those movies – Twilight and stuff – but you don’t ever think it could be _real_. I mean, you wonder, just for a second, you know?” Jaehyo looks back at him, eyes full of awe. “But to figure out it’s real? I mean… damn.”

Jaehyo falls silent after that, and Jihoon studies him closely for any signs that he’s going into shock, but despite his fear – which is fading now, and Jihoon mourns it – he’s resolute and unwavering.

They walk in silence for a while longer, weaving through the streets of Apgujeong, until they reach a snazzy new apartment building. Jaehyo stops at the bottom of the steps, hesitating on what to say, chewing his bottom lip.

Jihoon is struck by the young man’s beauty, and he has to forcefully retract his fangs. Violence makes him hungry, and he knows he’ll have to feed after this. The thought of leaving the mortal’s company, however, pains him.

“When…” Jaehyo begins, and Jihoon waits as the man frowns, his eyebrows drawing together. “When I was in the club, I felt so attracted to Hyunwoo. He was so mysterious and… and addicting, I couldn’t be close enough to him. I felt that with you, too, when you killed him. What is that?”

Jihoon is surprised. He’d expected something like ‘why did you kill him’, or even ‘are you sure you’re not going to kill me’, not something thoughtful like this. He responds by letting his power flare out again, enjoys seeing the expression on Jaehyo’s face change, from curiosity to wonder. Jaehyo steps closer and reaches out a hand to touch him, pupils dilated, and Jihoon almost leans into the touch, still staring into Jaehyo’s eyes –

He reins his power back in, feeling almost disappointed at the way Jaehyo’s eyes, so animated before, return to normal. “That’s my aura.” He says, stiffly, unsure of how much he should be letting on. “All vampires have it. It’s how you see my power.”

Jaehyo nods and chews his bottom lip. “So if I come across someone else who… who feels like that, what should I do?”

“Run.” Jihoon replies, perfectly serious. “And don’t look back. Jiho was going to kill you tonight, and would have succeeded if I hadn’t stepped in. Not everyone is as courteous as me.”

Jaehyo nods again. “Right. Well. Thank you, I guess.”

Jihoon is highly uncomfortable. He’s used to mortals fawning over him, he’s used to mortals swearing they’d make a deal with the devil to stay with him, he’s used to mortals being terrified of him, screaming and running from him. He’s not used to Jaehyo’s frankness, and it unnerves him.

He turns to go, but remembers something and turns back. “Oh, and Jaehyo? If you tell a single soul about what happened here tonight…” He lets his fangs run out and smiles, letting Jaehyo get an eyeful. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

He vanishes into the night and doesn’t look back, doesn’t see Jaehyo staring after him with an odd expression on his face – an expression that’s almost wistful.


	5. five

Jihoon wakes the next day feeling unsettled. News had spread overnight of his disposal of Jiho, and he’d had the Head of Vampire Relations in Asia send him a very courteous letter.

He reads it on the balcony of his apartment, revelling in the cool night air and the way it feels on his skin. The letter is formal and stuffy, full of congratulations and, Jihoon senses, a tone of relief. It ends with a request for him to visit soon. Rolling his eyes, he lets the letter fall to the ground. He hates the bureaucracy that comes with running a city, even if it is amusing sometimes.

He walks back inside and heads to the kitchen to pour himself a drink. He’s surprised to see Yejun there, bouncing around happily. He wants to tell Jihoon about the catch he’d just bagged, and Jihoon listens intently, happy to lose himself in this easy conversation, trying to ignore the way he starts to drool whenever Yejun mentions blood. He really needs to feed, and soon.

“And what are you going to do today, Jihoon?” Yejun asks, catching him off balance.

The issue of Jiho had consumed him for the past few months; now that he’s free, he has spare time once again, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. He shrugs. “I guess… go and feed. See what that vampire from China is doing here. Nothing of importance.”

Yejun nods. “Would you like me to get something for you?”

Yejun – or any of the others, really – would be happy to fetch him a victim, so he wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty. In fact, they would be very good at doing it in such a way that the victim was as fearful as possible – after all, what’s more frightening than being stolen, bound and gagged and transported to a strange location? He considers this option, before shaking his head. Killing two people in one day is a rarity these days, and has awoken in him some animalistic need. He wants to rip into flesh, feel it tear and rend beneath his hands.

He heads out a while later, fangs extended, fingernails sharp, ready to feed.

//

One of his usual haunts is a gay club, located in Itaewon. He goes there often, to pick up victims, and tonight is no different: within twenty minutes of entering, he’s leaving again, his arm around a shorter man, who is chattering away happily, his vodka-breath washing over Jihoon.

Most vampires he knows have a preference for either sex, but after experimenting for a millennia, Jihoon has resigned himself to the fact that he likes women and men equally. Some of the other vampires in his area like to rib him about it, but he doesn’t care. Men and women both are equally as fun to drink from; it’s often a challenge to instil fear in them, as each sex reacts differently to different methods.

The moment he enters the short man’s apartment, he throws himself at Jihoon, trailing kisses down Jihoon’s collarbone, tearing his shirt buttons in an effort to get closer, skin to skin. He only makes a passing comment about how cold Jihoon is, and Jihoon has to hide his smile.

When the man goes down on him, he lets his fangs run out, not giving a shit if he sees. In fact, Jihoon really should start throwing the man around now, if he wants to get the most life out of him; if he keeps going like this, the yield he gets will be very little, and he’ll have to feed again in a couple of days.

He reaches down to grasp the man’s chin, and the man looks up at him and Jihoon’s breath hitches in his throat, because for a second – just for a second – the man’s blue eyes looked like Jaehyo’s brown ones, and it was _Jaehyo_ on his knees in front of him, and – Jesus Christ.

//

When it’s over (he hadn’t the heart to frighten the man after all, so he’s only slightly buzzed), he leaves, letting himself out into the night. He lights a cigarette and walks, feeling the cold wind buffet him as he goes.

Jaehyo has stuck with him in a way he hadn’t predicted. Jihoon likes to predict the variables, he likes to know what will happen whenever he makes a decision, even if it’s one as small as deciding which suit to wear on that particular night. It’s why he’s such a good vampire, and it’s why Jaehyo is unnerving him so much. Jaehyo does not act in a way that can be predicted.

Without realising it, he realises he’s walking in the general direction of Apgujeong, where he knows Jaehyo’s apartment is. Taking a drag from his cigarette, he wills his hands to stop shaking and frowns, staring up at the stars. He’s never felt like this before, like he _needs_ to see Jaehyo again; he knows he won’t be able to sleep until he does, so he starts walking again, resigning himself to whatever happens. What could go wrong?

//

He finds Jaehyo easily. He’s at the same damn club that Jiho had been in last night, much to Jihoon’s surprise. After that spectacle, Jihoon would expect the human to avoid the area at all costs – it’s what human brains do. They use avoidance as a protective technique.

But there Jaehyo is, tearing it up on the dance floor, his arms around a pretty girl, drink in hand, head tilted back with laughter. Jihoon quickly uses shapeshifting and fades into the shadows where he can watch some more; he has the oddest sense of deja-vu, and it makes him feel uncomfortable.

Everything is planned in his life – every single thing, down to the last detail. But Jaehyo is completely unplanned, unpredictable, and as Jihoon observes, he realises – Jaehyo is a little intoxicating, too.

//

Jihoon follows Jaehyo home, just as the sky is beginning to lighten. He can see it, in the east; it’s turning from a deep midnight blue to a pale purple. He has to go soon, but still he stays, following Jaehyo as he stumbles home alone.

Just before Jaehyo enters his apartment complex, he closes his eyes and radiates power, letting it flow through his limbs, down to his fingertips; he shivers with it, with the knowledge that _this_ is what he is, this is what he was born to be. This is true and absolute power.

Jaehyo turns, puzzled, just as Jihoon knew he would. His face brightens, however, when he sees Jihoon, and he walks over, face bemused.

“I thought I told you to run if you ever felt this again.” Jihoon whispers, painfully aware of how close Jaehyo is, how amazing he smells, how his heartbeat seems to be calling to Jihoon.

Jaehyo tilts his head and closes his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose, seeming to relax. “I knew it was you as soon as I felt it.”

Jihoon startles at that. “How?”

Without warning, Jaehyo touches his face, a soft, intimate gesture that shocks him to his core. “You feel like… You feel like warmth, and sunshine, and happiness.” He sighs contentedly, swaying closer to Jihoon.

“Those are all opposites of what I really am.” Jihoon murmurs, hand coming up to stroke Jaehyo’s hair. “I am cold, I’m the darkness, I am misery.”

Jaehyo leans on him at that, and the shock of Jaehyo being so close to him makes his power instinctively snap back into place around him like a shield; instantly, Jaehyo steps back, the dreamy look in his eyes gone, replaced by fear.

“Why did you come here?” Jaehyo asks, rubbing his arms. He shoots a worried look towards the sky. “It’s nearly dawn. You can’t go out in the sun, right?”

“I…” Jihoon starts, but finds he doesn’t have an answer. They stand there like a moment, Jaehyo staring resolutely at the ground, Jihoon scanning Jaehyo, before he feels it.

His skin is starting to burn and smoke, just slightly. It’s not anything to worry about – not yet – but it stings, and he jumps. Jaehyo stares, eyes wide.

“You won’t see me again.” He says, and turns away from the human, wondering if he’s lying to himself.

Jaehyo doesn’t say anything as he leaves, and he thinks maybe that’s for the best.


	6. six

He lasts an entire week.

An entire week of normalcy, of stalking victims in the night and instilling fear into their hearts, in clawing at their throats and drinking their souls. An entire week of dealing with petty vampire conflicts. An entire week of utter dullness.

The whole time, he feels numb.

That’s how he finds himself watching Jaehyo again, as much as it makes him feel torn up inside – he’s a vampire, someone who _slaughters humans for a living_ , and yet he still can’t tear himself away from this human, this fascinating, _beautiful_ human.

Tonight, Jaehyo is on a date.

He’s picked a nice, but understated restaurant in Gangnam, rather close to Jihoon’s apartment. Keeping his power in check, using shapeshifting as much as he can to look different, he follows Jaehyo and the girl in, and luckily gets a table near them.

The food is really quite good, and he has to be careful to pay attention to it, rather than just stare at Jaehyo the whole time. Food doesn’t sustain him, and he can’t live off it, but it doesn’t affect him negatively, either. Some vampires forgo eating and drinking entirely, and live only on blood. Looking down at his beautifully made bibimbap, he snorts. How very _tedious_.

Jaehyo’s happiness is infectious, and soon the girl is won over by his charms, laughing along with him. He watches the human tell a story, his gestures exaggerated for comedic effect. Jaehyo is legitimately funny, and he has to bury his face in the dessert menu to hide his laughter, lest Jaehyo looks over and sees. Shapeshifting can only do so much, after all, and Jaehyo would recognise Jihoon if he looked long enough.

The girl and Jaehyo leave after that, and Jihoon follows them, weaving through crowds in order to keep up, wishing he’d been granted invisibility as a power, too. As it is, he has to keep his distance, at one point noticing the girl’s hand curling around Jaehyo’s. He pulls her closer and tucks her under his arm, a gesture of intimacy so simple and soft that Jihoon turns and walks away, unable to see any more.

He kills, that night. Young vampires often kill while they are still learning to feed, because they’re not experienced enough to know how much blood to take. He hasn’t killed in months, because he only really needs to take a sip from a fully fearful mortal to get a decent amount of life force; tonight, he does it because he needs to remind himself of what he is. He is a _vampire_ , this is what he does – he _kills_ people.

And yet, even as the girls’ cries turn into whimpers, which turn into breathy noises, which turn into silence as she dies, he can’t banish the image from his head of Jaehyo, laughing and happy, soft and human and mortal and _warm_. His jealousy flows into rage, and he flings the girl’s body away. Useless, useless. They’re all useless.

//

Every night, he follows Jaehyo, and every night, he kills.

It’s the trade-off, he has decided. For every moment where he pretends to be human, he has a hundred other moments of slaughter, to remind him of what he is. It’s not a good look, to be killing residents of his own city, but he’s too far gone to care. Even Yejun looks at him funnily now, unsure of what his leader is doing.

Tonight, Jaehyo had gone clubbing again. Jihoon had watched him all night, until Jaehyo left with a pretty boy tucked under his arm, and then left to find a victim.

“Go ahead, scream, bitch.” He growls in the woman’s face, fangs extended. “Scream all you want. No one’s coming.”

She falls silent at that, her terror peaking, flowing into Jihoon all at once. He feels rage, and resentment, and terror, and it’s like heaven: he feels himself being regenerated by her fear, even as she swipes at him.

With a surge of power, he picks her up and slams her onto the ground, foot on her throat. “I can make this painful for you, or I can make it painless. Your decision.”

She spits up at him, so he kneels down and sinks his fangs into her neck, listening to her wail. If he chooses to, he can use his power to numb the pain of his fangs. He rarely does; he gets more of a fix that way.

He drinks quickly, pinning her hands to the ground, growing stronger as she grows weaker. She’s terrified, he’s getting a great hit and feels ready to take on the world – but he can’t get Jaehyo’s fucking face out of his mind.

//

Two weeks.

“Jihoon?” Yejun asks, hesitating in the doorway of his bedroom. “Are you okay?”

No, he’s not. He’s not okay. This is the furthest from _okay_ he’s ever been. He’s depressed, and angry, and he can’t stop thinking about Jaehyo, which is stupid because Jaehyo is mortal and will die and he’s immortal and won’t. This isn’t something that he’s experienced before and he feels like he’s lost at sea, bobbing helplessly as the waves crash over his head.

He rolls over and looks at Yejun, speaking clearly and confidently. “I’m fine, Yejun.”

//

Three weeks.

He’s stopped killing. It doesn’t get rid of the way Jaehyo echoes around him, anyway.

//

Four weeks.

Jaehyo is on his apartment steps, just sitting and looking up at the stars. Jihoon wonders what he’s thinking about, if he even thinks about him when he’s at university or running errands or going on dates with girls.

Something breaks in him, just then, seeing Jaehyo pondering and thoughtful and beautiful on the steps; he feels his heart tear in two and it hurts, oh god, it hurts. He’s not human, he never will be. No amount of following Jaehyo around and pretending to be will ever change the fact that they are intrinsically different, destined to be separate. Who is he trying to fool? Himself? God?

He turns and walks away, the beginnings of a plan starting to form in his mind.

//

The next day, he swans into the kitchen of his apartment, wearing one of his best Armani suits, a glass of bourbon on the rocks in hand. Yejun and the others look at each other, surprised – for the past month he’d been too preoccupied to dress properly, so seeing him well groomed and presentable is a shock.

He examines them all, his eyes picking out the ones who are relieved that he’s back to his regular self, and the ones who are confused, Yejun being amongst the latter. He flashes his best winning smile and leans on the kitchen island.

“I need you all to do something for me.”


	7. seven

_forward_

He drinks and drinks from Jaehyo, trying to ignore the way it sends a thrill through him when Jaehyo puts his arms around him, pulling him close. He can’t focus on anything, not even his _name_ , the name that no one knows, because the way Jaehyo’s fear and blood is flowing into him is too much, he’s never tasted anything as sweet as this, as the way Jaehyo tastes –

Jaehyo slumps, then, and Jihoon steps back, horrified, as he realises what he’s done. His plan – to keep drinking and drinking, to give Jaehyo a gentle death – slips out of his head as he sees Jaehyo, laying lifeless on the floor, pale and still.

“Fuck, fuck.” He breathes, picking up Jaehyo and taking him to the bed. “No, please no.”

Something inside of him is laughing – all his good intentions to return to the path of the Good Vampire had all shattered the moment he’d started drinking from Jaehyo. What’s that mortal phrase? The road to Hell is paved with good intentions? He’s completely lost, and has no idea who he really is. He hates it, hates himself even as he shakes Jaehyo over and over, touching his pale face, fingers fluttering over eyelids and cheekbones.

Jaehyo isn’t breathing. Why isn’t he breathing? What does he have to do to fix him? He doesn’t know that CPR shit. Damn it, why are mortals so fragile? He panics, shaking him harshly. “Why won’t you _wake up_?”

He remembers something, apropos of nothing. Hundreds of years ago when he lived in Europe, he saw another vampire bring a human back from the dead with his own blood. The vampire – the only one in a thousand-mile radius, so Jihoon and he tended to stick together – and the human were in love, something he’d thought was completely hilarious at the time, and believed the relationship doomed.

The woman lay beautiful and pale on the rushes in front of the fire, having nearly bled out after being mauled by wolves. She was so pale that Jihoon thought she could now pass as one of them, but he did not broach this subject to the vampire, who was moving around calmly, arranging her limbs and moving her closer to the fire. The poor girl was close to death, even Jihoon could see that, and yet the other vampire did not hesitate. He tore into his own wrist – the sight of something so animalistic and sacrilege forcing Jihoon back a few steps, stomach heaving – and held it up to the girl’s mouth. Instinctively, she gagged and choked, before latching on and drinking. Before his very eyes, Jihoon saw the colour return to her face, her breathing grow deep and steady.

Looking down at Jaehyo now, he knows he has no other choice, so he extends his fangs and bites into his own wrist, feeling his own sinew and muscle tear. It’s a feeling that makes him gag, but still he lifts Jaehyo’s head and holds up his dripping wrist to Jaehyo’s mouth, the dark ruby blood spilling on Jaehyo’s lips.

The moment Jaehyo latches on and drinks, a wave of eroticism flows through him, so strong that he arches his back and hisses. Jaehyo grabs his wrist, grip surprisingly firm already, and pulls him back, drinking faster and deeper now. Just like all those years ago, Jihoon watches as the colour returns to Jaehyo’s face, his grip on Jihoon’s wrist growing stronger and stronger until his nails are digging in, breaking the skin.

And then Jaehyo opens his eyes and looks at Jihoon, and his eyes are a bright, crimson red.

With a yelp, he wrenches his wrist away from Jaehyo, scrabbling backwards across the bed, a mirror of the human just minutes ago. Jaehyo follows, mouth agape in a terrifying grin, the blood around his mouth dripping onto the blanket. He grabs at Jihoon’s wrist, but the wound is already closed, and he pouts.

“Do it again.” He growls, but he’s not Jaehyo, _that’s not his voice_ , and Jihoon panics, unleashing his power in a wave, flipping Jaehyo over and pinning him to the bed. Jaehyo wriggles, but there’s no way he can get free, so he stops, and as Jihoon looks, he sees the crimson fading from his eyes –

And Jaehyo’s eyes roll back in his head as he faints.

//

The name.

The _name_.

How did he know that name?

When a vampire transitions – turns from a human into a vampire, a process that lasts a week – it’s traditional for them to take a new name, a sign of their new self. It’s a symbolic, but important, way of cutting ties with their past, human self. The old human name becomes the most sacred secret a vampire can have, and there are rumours, spread mainly by old-fashioned types, that if you know a vampire’s true name, you can wield power over them.

Jihoon himself broke tradition by simply discarding his last name. He didn’t take a new one, or a new first name, either – something that got him a few raised eyebrows. He’s been Jihoon since he came from his mother’s womb, and he will be Jihoon when he finally dies. He hasn’t spoken of his last name in hundreds of years.

So where did Jaehyo know it from? Why did Jaehyo choose to say it then – to remind him of his humanity at a point where he didn’t want to be reminded of it? How did Jaehyo _know?_

He looks over at the human, who is sleeping peacefully, curled up on the bed. Gently, with a tenderness he didn’t know he had in him, he picks up Jaehyo and places him under the blankets. He rolls over and makes a contented noise, which Jihoon takes as a good sign.

Jaehyo said that he’d heard the others talking about it, which doesn’t make sense to him. None of his inner circle would know his last name, or even know anyone who knew his last name. This is subterfuge, and it is meant to be insidious, but thanks to Jaehyo – who, as if on cue, rolls over and makes an adorable snuffling noise – he knows now. Now he has to figure out what to do with that information.

He heads out into the kitchen, where the others are waiting, no doubt having eavesdropped. They would have felt his wave of power, and they know Jaehyo’s still alive. So when he walks in and sees them sitting at the table, pale and scared, he’s not surprised. He walks to the head of the table and waits, fury sizzling underneath his skin quietly. He’s not been betrayed in such a vicious way before, and by so many people.

Yejun speaks first, his face pale and pinched. “It was me. There were rumours going around… about your name… and I was curious.”

Jihoon keeps his breathing steady, waiting for the moment. “Do you know the importance of a vampire’s name?”

If Yejun was ignorant, he could perhaps consider letting this go. Heaven knows he would have had no idea what vampire’s name meant when he was new; he likes Yejun enough that if this was the case he could consider letting him live.

Yejun nods miserably, and Jihoon sighs, closing his eyes, feeling dread settle on his shoulders like Atlas, holding up the world. With precise control, he harnesses his power, tucking it close to his chest, before pushing it out so it surrounds him, clinging to his skin. He takes a deep breath in, feeling his power crackle in the air around him.

He explodes.

Shoving his power out through his palms, he roars, the fury of a thousand years’ frustration emptying his lungs. Every pane of glass in the room shatters, every single vampire in the room goes flying backwards, and he floats in the air, a furious wind whipping everything around. He’s never used his power like this before, never known what it feels like to be a God amongst men. He clenches his fist, and Yejun floats closer, closer, and closer still, until he can see himself reflected in his eyes; he looks terrifying, his face sharp, his eyes glowing a bright, supernatural red, and he loves it.

“You knew.” He growls, and his voice is deep, too deep, the voices of a thousand souls crying out with him. “You knew.”

Yejun closes his eyes, embracing death, and it’s the easiest thing in the world to rip his skull in two, the two halves of his head sailing away in the wind as Jihoon laughs and laughs, drunk and giddy on the power that he never knew he wielded.

He considers the others, who are still pinned helplessly against the walls of his kitchen, wonders who will be next. Killing is so _easy_ , it’s so fun, and he’s giggling as he surveys them all. This is power, this is _his_ power, and by God, he’s going to use it. He reaches out, reaching for the nearest vampire, ready to rip, to tear, to sever, when –

A hand closes around his wrist and he looks down, and it’s the human standing there, braced against the battering wind, tugging at Jihoon desperately. What is he doing here? Jihoon instantly recognises him as food and yanks him closer so they’re face to face, and bares his fangs, ready to feed.

“Jihoon. Stop. Please.” The human begs, his voice getting torn away by the wind. “Please. _Please_.”

Something about the human’s voice and the way he’s _looking_ at him – eyes wide and full of nothing but trust and hope – strikes a chord, deep inside his heart, and he closes his eyes, relaxing, letting his power snap back to his chest. The wind dies away immediately as he floats back down to the ground, the human still holding onto his wrist. He feels at peace, suddenly, even as he’s surrounded by chaos.

He looks into Jaehyo’s eyes and everything goes black.


	8. eight

When he wakes the next day, safely in his own bed, the breeze blowing through the shattered window, he knows that something has irrevocably changed.

He barely remembers what happened yesterday. He remembers Jaehyo knowing his name, his _secret_ name. He remembers drinking from Jaehyo, and letting Jaehyo drink from him. He remembers killing Yejun. He remembers wielding power that God himself couldn’t have – but all the memories are fuzzy, blurry, like he’d been drunk.

Slinging himself out of bed, he pulls on a dressing gown and pads out into the kitchen, almost immediately slicing his feet open on broken glass. It doesn’t really matter, because the cuts close up instantly, but it stings.

The kitchen is a mess. Furniture is overturned, everything that’s glass is shattered and lying on the floor, and the curtains are blowing out onto the balcony. Jaehyo is there, sitting at the kitchen table with tape over his mouth, accompanied by a vampire named Hasun, who is stony faced and immobile. Hasun has been part of his circle for only 50 years, yet she is quiet and dedicated to her job. She always dresses in pant suits, regardless of climate, and always wears her brown hair scraped back into a tight bun.

He doesn’t know where the others are. He doesn’t particularly care. After last night, his display of power was enough to show them that there was no one more powerful than he. In losing his mind, he inadvertently cemented his position as leader of this city.

Hasun inclines her head towards Jihoon, like it’s just a regular evening. She is completely ignoring Jaehyo, apart from the restraining arm on his wrist. It looks like a gentle caress, but Jihoon knows she’s holding him there with all her strength.

“Good morning, Jihoon.” She says, cordially.

He sits down in a chair opposite them and says nothing, waiting for her explanation. She knows her job now, and launches into it with no fuss.

“Everyone was perturbed by your… little show last night. They’ve all gone to do damage control.”

“Damage control?” Jihoon asks, snatching a grape from a bunch on a plate in the middle of the table. They wouldn’t have survived the chaos last night – Hasun must have put them there.

“Your display sent up a beacon to every single vampire on the peninsula. Everyone is sniffing around, wondering what the hell went down. They’ve all gone to sort it out.” She informs him, dryly, before looking at Jaehyo like he was dirty. “All for a human.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Why perturbed?”

Hasun looks him directly in the eye. “Forgive my impertinence, but we’ve all witnessed you kill two of your own vampires, without hesitation, in the past month. That’s unheard of.” She takes a deep breath. “Even for you.”

“And Jaehyo?” He asks, munching on another grape, desperately trying to avoid the human’s eyes.

“Who?”

“The human you’re holding onto, Hasun.” He counters, smiling slightly.

“Oh.” She looks at Jaehyo like she’s never seen him before. “ _This_.”

“Yes. That. You can let go of him, now, he’s not going anywhere.” He finally caves and looks at Jaehyo when he says this, and is surprised to see cold indifference in the human’s eyes, such a contrast to last night that it makes him blink, taken aback.

Hasun moves her hand away so quickly he barely even sees it move. She shifts her chair a little away from him, too, and Jihoon tuts at her disgust.

“You’re dismissed.” He says, waving a hand at her. “Don’t come back here for a few days. I have some damage control of my own to do. Oh, and organise some workmen to come and fix the windows, please.”

She gets up and leaves, bowing slightly at the waist as she does so. He knows her enough to tell that everything will be under control in the few days; while she would not tell him outright if the others were planning a mutiny, she’d give him enough subtle clues, hints to warn him of what might come. But there was nothing.

When she shuts the door, Jihoon leans forward and gently peels the tape off of Jaehyo’s mouth, trying to ignore how _warm_ he is underneath his fingertips. “Want a grape?” He asks.

Jaehyo narrows his eyes. “I’d like to go home. I’d like to forget what I saw last night, and I’d like to forget I ever knew you.”

Jihoon isn’t leashing his power, he’s letting it surround him like a cloud, so he’s stunned at the vitriol in the human’s voice. What happened to him feeling like warmth and sunshine and happiness? He leans back in his chair and pretends to think. He doesn’t want to toy with Jaehyo – not really. But he’s seen too much now, knows too much, and Jihoon can’t bring himself to kill him. So they’re stuck in this stalemate. That’s what he wants to explain to Jaehyo, but he can’t find the words, so he shrugs. “Sorry. No can do.”

Jaehyo sneers. “You had no problem letting me go the last two times.”

Jihoon leans forward and slams his hand on the kitchen table, making Jaehyo jump. His fear spikes, and for a brief moment he tastes it. “You’ve seen too much. You can’t leave. I told you you were meddling in things you didn’t understand.”

“And whose fault is that?” Jaehyo bursts out, standing up suddenly, his eyes filling with tears. “ _You’re_ the one who ordered them to bring me here, did you not? _You’re_ the one who nearly killed me. You’re the one who _changed_ me.”

Jihoon gets to his feet as well, towering over Jaehyo. “I didn’t change you.” He booms, suddenly angry. “I fucking saved your life. You would have died.”

Jaehyo sneers again, looking Jihoon up and down pointedly. “I think I would have preferred death, than to be one of you.”

Jihoon turns away so Jaehyo doesn’t see the pain etched all over his face.

//

Whatever fantasies he may have had about running away with Jaehyo, starting a life together – and as much as it disgusts him to admit, he did have those fantasies – he soon finds that living with Jaehyo as, essentially, his hostage, is too much to bear.

Jaehyo despises him. He doesn’t need his supernatural powers to feel the hatred rolling off him in waves, which spikes every time Jihoon so much as goes near him. Jaehyo is constantly afraid, too, his fear like a cloud that follows Jihoon around. He is always absorbing life from Jaehyo, even when he doesn’t want to, and it makes him hurt. He gives Jaehyo the big spare bedroom, and he spends all day watching television in there. Jihoon offers him food, but he doesn’t eat; he barely even drinks. He offers him full use of his wardrobe, but Jaehyo gets dressed every day in the same ratty old t-shirt and jeans. There’s no way for Jaehyo to escape, even when he’s sleeping during the day – they’re 20 floors up, and Jihoon owns the whole apartment building, so none of the residents would dare to call the police. He is well and truly trapped.

After three days of watching Jaehyo waste away before his very eyes, Jihoon orders a takeaway pizza and brings it to Jaehyo’s room, places it on the bed in front of the man and sits.

“Eat.” He orders.

Jaehyo looks at him, and those eyes that were once so vivid and beautiful and full of life are now dull and lifeless and it hurts him, it feels like a stab to the heart, and he has to catch his breath.

“No.” Jaehyo replies, rolling away.

He takes a slice of pizza and puts it on the blanket, right in front of Jaehyo’s nose. “Eat.”

“How do I know it’s not poisoned?” Jaehyo accuses, sitting up straight, and Jihoon is alarmed at how thin he’s gotten, just in three days.

He rolls his eyes, but takes a bite of the slice, chews and swallows it pointedly. “Not poisoned.” He points out.

Jaehyo wrinkles his nose. “And how do I know? You’re immortal. You could probably drink gallons of poison and not have it hurt you.” But the smell wafting up to him is too intense, and he takes the slice and manages a tiny bite.

“I haven’t tried. I’d imagine poison tastes like shit.” Jihoon says, hiding a smile.

Finishing the slice, Jaehyo looks up at him. “You _are_ immortal, right? I can’t just stab you now?”

“You could try. I have been stabbed before.” Jihoon says. “It’s not very nice, but not fatal.”

With a cry, Jaehyo grabs the knife that he’d used to cut the pizza – and left in the box, that was stupid of him – and stabs him in the chest, directly over his heart. He frowns, ignoring the pain that hits him like a brick.

“Ouch.” Jihoon says, dryly, pulling the knife out and wiping it on the sheets. “But alas, I am still alive.”

Jaehyo reaches for another slice and takes a bite, thinking. “I can feel you.”

Jihoon is startled. Once again, Jaehyo reacts in a way that other humans don’t; asks questions that never even cross the minds of others. He nods, raising one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t bother to mask my… my aura in my own home. It’s too much effort.”

Jaehyo closes his eyes, and a peaceful look falls over his face, and he almost looks _content_. His voice, when he speaks, is soft and dreamy. “I fucking despise you. I could sit here all day and slit your throat over and over again. But you still feel so warm to me.”

Jihoon has to close his own eyes at that, lest the hope he feels shows in them. He takes the knife and quietly backs out of the room, leaving the air heavy with faith and hate.

//

He’s in his study, looking at the walls – work doesn’t stop, even when you’ve got personal business – when Jaehyo walks in.

“What’s this?” He asks, casually, like Jihoon has invited him over for an informal chat, and isn’t holding him hostage.

They’re tiptoeing around each other in a cautious kind of dance, now. Jaehyo is actually starting conversations, and his fear is starting to lessen. Jihoon knows that his hope is fading, hope that he’ll ever leave this apartment alive, and that he has resigned himself to whatever comes. Jihoon knows that by dragging this out he’s just causing himself more pain: for every day he keeps Jaehyo alive, the pain in his heart will be compounded tenfold when he has to kill him.

“It’s my workspace.” He says, gesturing to the walls. “I have to keep track of every foreign vampire who comes in and out of Seoul, in case they cause trouble.”

Jaehyo wanders up to an old picture of Jiho and frowns. “Why? It seems you cause enough trouble by yourself.”

“Believe it or not, vampires are big on bureaucracy. If someone comes into my territory and kills more than a few times, I have to ship them back to their area vampire and fill out a ton of paperwork. It’s easy to keep track of them this way.” He shuts his mouth suddenly, afraid he’s given too much away.

Jaehyo nods, scanning the room. “You just manage Seoul? Or all of South Korea?”

“Just Seoul, and that keeps my hands full enough. I wouldn’t want to manage a whole country.” He replies, wandering over to the desk and pouring them both a drink.

Jaehyo downs it in one go and shoves the glass at Jihoon again, demanding a refill. He sips this one, and turns to stare up at Jihoon. “Is that where you go? At night, when I’m sleeping?”

Jihoon blinks. “Well… Yes. And to feed.”

Something changes in Jaehyo’s eyes at that, a shutter comes down over his face, and he leaves the room, leaving Jihoon with the knowledge that Jaehyo is not ready to have that conversation yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adding two chapters at once because why not


	9. nine

It takes a month.

A month of near-constant companionship, companionship that quickly starts turning into friendship. Jaehyo begins opening up to him more and more, even starts playing practical jokes on Jihoon; his fear is abating, and Jihoon can barely feel it anymore.

In fact, he doesn’t know whether it’s his aura or what, but whenever they walk past each other, Jaehyo passes a little closer than is strictly necessary for polite company. It’s like he’s a comet, being sucked into Jihoon’s orbit; every time they pass, Jaehyo gets the strangest peaceful look on his face.

Jaehyo is curled up on the couch asleep when Jihoon comes in one night, the TV playing quietly in the background. He reaches for the remote and turns it off, before scooping the human up in his arms and carrying him into his bedroom.

“Jihoon.” Jaehyo mumbles against his chest, and Jihoon nearly drops him, he’s so surprised. Jaehyo hasn’t called him by name for the whole time he’s been here; he’s just called him ‘vamp’, which he finds slightly endearing.

“Yes?” He whispers back, tucking Jaehyo under the covers, fluffing a pillow underneath his head.

Jaehyo rolls over and looks at him, his eyes wide in the darkness. “Stay with me.”

Jihoon’s breath hitches in his throat. Jaehyo is clearly asleep, or dreaming, and he doesn’t want to disturb him further, so he turns to walk away, but Jaehyo grabs his hand and pulls him back.

“Please?” He whines, and Jihoon melts.

He slides into bed next to Jaehyo, amazed at how much it smells like him, how warm he is. Jaehyo rolls over and rests his head on his chest, and the _smell_ of him surrounds Jihoon, and his fangs run out a little bit. Fuck.

“Vampire.” Jaehyo sing-songs. “Did you drink someone’s blood tonight?”

Jihoon stiffens, unsure, again, of how much to tell Jaehyo, how much is too much for the human, whose mind, he’s sure, is damaged by the constant abuse he’s seen since Jihoon walked into his life. “Tonight? Yes, I did.”

“Did you kill them?” Jaehyo mumbles into his chest.

Jihoon’s hand comes up to stroke Jaehyo’s hair, his fingers twisting through the fine strands. “No.”

Sitting up on one elbow, Jaehyo stares him down. “Why don’t you drink from me?”

Every single time Jihoon thinks he’s got Jaehyo figured out, when he thinks he’s got all of Jaehyo’s actions validated, he goes and says something that throws him for a loop. Jaehyo is completely unlike any other human he’s ever met, constantly asking questions where others don’t. Another mortal phrase springs to mind: fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

He brushes the hair away from Jaehyo’s eyes as he answers, expecting Jaehyo to grab his hand and move it away, but he doesn’t, and the gesture of intimacy is allowed. “Because the last time I did that, I couldn’t control myself. I nearly killed you. I _hurt_ you. I won’t do that again.”

Flopping back onto the pillows, Jaehyo sighs. “Why did you flip out that day? I mean, I know you’re a vampire, and it’s kind of in your nature to lose your mind at every little thing – ” Jaehyo shoots a smirk in Jihoon’s direction before continuing, “ – but that was kind of uncalled for.”

Jihoon rolls away and faces the wall. “What exactly did you hear the others saying, about that name?”

“The young one, the one you – you killed. He was telling the others he found out what your ‘forgotten’ name was. They asked what it was, and he told them. He was laughing when he did, said it was an ancient sort of name.” Jaehyo tells him.

Sitting up and running a hand through his hair, Jihoon exhales slowly. “A vampire’s ‘forgotten’ name is their human name. We take new names when we transition. There are old stories that if you know a vampire’s forgotten name, you can control him. It’s not true, but there’s a great deal of suspicion and secrecy around our names. I haven’t spoken that name in centuries.”

Jaehyo’s arm, unexpectedly, slides around his waist and pulls him back down, closer. “So that’s why you freaked out on me when I said it.” He pauses. “How old are you anyway? You don’t have to answer.” He adds, hurriedly, feeling Jihoon freeze.

“I was born… God, back in the 11th century sometime. I don’t know the year, exactly.” He replies. He’s never really told anyone how old he is. It’s just never come up – vampires can sort of sense it, in relation to how much power they hold.

“Wow.” Jaehyo breathes, scooting even closer, so his whole body is pressed up against Jihoon’s.

He waits for more questions, but they don’t come, and soon he realises that Jaehyo has fallen asleep, his breathing turning slow and deep. Reluctant to move, in case he wakes him, Jihoon lies like that for the next few hours, his mind ticking over, back into the past.

He only moves when the sun starts to rise, bathing the world in a pale pink glow, taunting him with what he can never have.

//

“I want to go out.” Jaehyo whines, draping his arms over Jihoon’s shoulders as he sits at his desk.

Since that night in the bed, Jaehyo no longer holds back with physical contact. Jihoon suspects it’s just his power drawing him in, but he embraces it all the same, hating the way he likes Jaehyo a little more each day.

“Where do you want to go?” He asks, throwing down his pen and leaning back into Jaehyo’s touch.

Jaehyo slips away and walks over to the window, pressing his forehead against the glass. “Maybe to a late dinner? I don’t know. I have a craving for foreign food.”

//

“This isn’t what I meant.” Jaehyo huffs, his hair falling into his eyes.

Jihoon shrugs, trying to hold back his smile. “You said you wanted foreign food. I thought this would suffice.”

They’re standing in front of a McDonald's in Itaewon, not too far away from the gay club he used to visit. It’s late – around 3 am – and the fast food joint is full of drunk people, both foreigners and Koreans alike, milling about with glassy eyes and mouths full of nonsense.

Rolling his eyes, Jaehyo storms inside.

//

“This isn’t very romantic for a first date.” Jaehyo says around a mouthful of Big Mac.

Jihoon chokes on a chip, coughing so hard that his fangs run out inadvertently. Jaehyo grimaces at him when he sees them, still unused to the sight, which is fair enough; Jihoon tries to take care that they’re always retracted around him.

“What?” He asks, sipping on his drink in order to remove the last bit of chip from his airway. “You fucking hate me. I tried to kill you. You’re human.” He starts spluttering. “Are you okay? Are you sick? Do you need a doctor?”

Jaehyo laughs. “I don’t need a doctor, Jihoon. I’m fine. Just a little infatuated by your charms.”

Jihoon suddenly realises, his heart sinking dreadfully. His power. _Fuck_. He’s been walking around for a month now with it unchecked; of course it will have drawn Jaehyo in, as it was designed to do.

He snaps it back into place, feels himself now become boring and dull in mortal eyes. But Jaehyo barely blinks, just looks up at him with a puzzled look on his face. “Why’d you turn it off?”

Jihoon just watches. Jaehyo is still looking at him with the same expression, with that hint of warmth and affection in his eyes, and as he stares, Jaehyo touches his face – just briefly, just for a second, but it sends a thrill through him.

Still, he doesn’t dare to hope: it must be his power, causing this. It must have been.


	10. ten

Hasun is waiting for him when he gets home one night, sitting in the kitchen and drinking his bourbon, her suit today a cheery shade of blue. Jaehyo goes wide-eyed when he sees her, and his fear spikes as he hurries into the bedroom and closes the door.

“Thanks.” Jihoon sighs as he slumps into the chair next to her. “You’ve made him scared again.”

She gives him a funny look. “Why are you hiding yourself?” She asks, referring to his power.

“Jaehyo said that – oh, forget it.” He groans. “Why are you here?”

She raises one shoulder in a shrug, but her eyes are scanning the room, checking that everything is in order. “Everyone’s a little concerned that you haven’t killed your little love slave yet.”

“He’s not – That’s not what this is about, Hasun.” He snatches her drink and drains it in one glass. “I’m dealing with it.”

“You _are_ staying on top of work.” She concedes. “There haven’t been any disturbances, and things _have_ returned to normal...” Her tone of voice is clipped, businesslike, and it raises Jihoon’s hackles. She doesn’t get to tell him how well he’s doing at his job. He growls at her, letting her see his fangs, and she gets the message, getting up and making her way to the door.

Right before she leaves, she looks back at him, her face softening into something that looks suspiciously like pity. “Jihoon… Deal with the problem, sooner rather than later.”

Right. The problem. The problem being Jaehyo, who isn’t a problem at all – who is the exact _opposite_ of a problem.

//

When he wakes up, Jaehyo is curled around him, leg slung over his, arm thrown across his waist, and he panics. He forgot to lock his fucking door, and he could have woken up to his throat being slit, over and over, like Jaehyo spoke about; Jaehyo could have drained him to the point of near-death, where he was too weak to fight back, and then could have done anything with him.

Instead, Jaehyo sits up and smiles. “Morning.”

His brain, still addled from the death-like sleep he falls into every day, blurts out something stupid. “You can go.”

“Are you giving me orders now?” Jaehyo bristles. “I’m not one of your fucking cronies, Jihoon.”

“That’s – I meant you could leave the apartment. If you wanted to.” He says, still groggy, wondering why he chose to have this conversation _now_ , when he’s hardly awake, and not making much sense. Maybe it’s remnants of Hasun’s conversation with him yesterday, lingering in his brain, making him try to give Jaehyo an exit.

“Oh.” Jaehyo says, clarity blooming on his face, like a flower in spring. “Oh.”

And he goes.

//

When he wakes the next day, having spent the last night wondering why he’d let Jaehyo go, pacing around his study getting progressively more drunk, Jaehyo is curled around him again.

“You’re here.” He says, stupidly. “Why?”

Jaehyo just smiles. “I came back to you.”

Jihoon slides out of bed and pulls open the curtains, ripping the tape that keeps them shut during the day, rage inexplicably filling him. “That’s preposterous. You should have run. You should have got on a train to somewhere – anywhere – and _run away_ , Jaehyo.”

Jaehyo shrugs, kneeling on the bed and shuffling closer to Jihoon. “I didn’t, though. I’m still here.”

“Why?” He whirls around, eyes glowing crimson, fangs reaching near his chin – a last ditch effort to frighten Jaehyo away. “I nearly killed you. You saw what I can do.”

Jaehyo just moves closer, his eyes never leaving Jihoon’s. “I know.”

An almighty war is raging inside of Jihoon. He is torn – torn between pushing Jaehyo away further, injuring him, sending him fleeing away from him, the way he should – or embracing this insanity that has become the new normal. He growls, warning Jaehyo not to come any closer, but Jaehyo doesn’t flinch, slipping off the bed to stand in front of Jihoon.

“It’s – it’s my aura. It must be.” He pleads, retracting his fangs, trying to give Jaehyo – and himself – one last way out, but Jaehyo shakes his head, his hand coming to rest upon Jihoon’s cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbone.

“It’s you.” Jaehyo says simply. “You’re the warmth that I feel. Not your power.”

He gives in, then, opening the doors to emotions he hasn’t felt for centuries: love, affection, tenderness, compassion. For the first time since he was turned, he feels human again, and it’s a glorious feeling. He has _hope_.

Jaehyo slides his arm around his waist and pulls him close, smiling the whole time. “I knew I’d win you over.”

“Did you, now?” Jihoon whispers, his face drifting closer to Jaehyo’s.

“Mmm. Ever since I saw you rip out the heart of another living being, it was love at first sight.” Jaehyo teases, but his fist clenches in Jihoon’s shirt.

Jihoon kisses him then, partly to shut him up, but mainly because he’s wanted to for so long now, and oh, God, he feels like he’s floating on a cloud as Jaehyo kisses him back. Their lips move together, their tongues touching, and Jaehyo’s hand scrabbles under his shirt to stroke his back, and even that small contact sends him rearing back, fangs sliding out.

Jaehyo doesn’t pause, though, and falls backwards onto the bed, tugging Jihoon down on top of him, trailing kisses down Jihoon’s neck and collarbones. “I want you to bite me.” He whispers into Jihoon’s ear.

A shiver goes through him and he closes the distance between them in a crushing kiss, his fangs pressing down perilously on Jaehyo’s lip. They’re pressed up against one another, but he needs to be _closer_ , he can’t stand any distance between them.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He gasps. “I might lose control again.”

Jaehyo nips him gently on the neck, eyes glittering. “I trust you.”

“Christ.” Jihoon whispers, and bites down, his fangs sliding into Jaehyo’s neck easily.

He’s never taken blood like this, without fear and instead with trust, and love; it’s different from usual, but not bad. In fact, as Jaehyo gasps and writhes underneath him, rutting against his leg, he smiles. Not bad at all.

He loses himself in the feel of Jaehyo, hands scratching paths down his back that disappear as instantly as he makes them; the way he starts whispering Jihoon’s name, turning his head to kiss Jihoon wherever he can reach. Jihoon’s blood is intoxicating, and as he continues to drink, something else flows in, too – _feelings_.

A wave of affection and love hits him, so strong that his arms give way and he collapses onto Jaehyo’s chest, still drinking. He’s not feeling fear, or hatred, or anything negative: just love, trust, and affection, all flowing from Jaehyo into him, and he begins to feel drunk on all the emotions.

“Fuck.” He says, pulling back, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Jaehyo just stares, eyes wide and glassy, hands reaching for Jihoon, pulling him close again. “Do you have any idea what that felt like?”

“No.” He says, and without hesitation, tears into his wrist, offering it to Jaehyo. “But I want to find out.”

Jaehyo starts drinking and just like last time, a wave of lust hits him, and he moans, grinding down on Jaehyo, who just drinks faster. Again, he tastes Jaehyo’s feelings, all warm and sunshiney, and it just compounds the lust, and he grinds down again, craving release.

He looks up and startles. Jaehyo’s eyes are red again, and when he rips his wrist away, Jaehyo resists with a strength that Jihoon knows isn’t entirely human. Pinning Jaehyo’s wrists to the bed, he licks the wound that he made on the human’s neck to clean it – but it’s already gone, the power of his blood surging through Jaehyo now.

Sitting up, he pulls Jaehyo with him, kissing him as his mind races. This isn’t something that he expected. He’d thought that the last time he gave blood to Jaehyo was a fluke; he hadn’t realised it was going to carry over. In fact, last time it only lasted a few seconds, much less than this – but as he pulls back, Jaehyo’s eyes are still red, and he still reaches for Jihoon, the bloodlust taking over his brain.

“Jaehyo!” He growls. “Snap out of it.”

Jaehyo snarls – he actually snarls at Jihoon – and scrabbles closer, trying to bite at Jihoon’s neck with fangs he doesn’t have. Jihoon pushes him back, keeping him at arm’s length, holding his breath as he figures out what to do. Is he going to have to restrain him, or get someone to help? He can’t –

And then Jaehyo goes limp in Jihoon’s arms, eyes fluttering shut as he faints dead away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i'm just gonna be posting all chapters of this at once lmAO


	11. eleven

Jihoon has to leave after that. Taking Jaehyo’s blood – and giving him his own – makes him feel jumpy and on-edge, and he knows he needs to feed again, feel the fear of a mortal. After tucking Jaehyo into bed, leaving a glass of water on the bedside table, he goes, not looking back.

It doesn’t take him long to find a victim, and within an hour he’s in some strange apartment, his power swirling around him like a shroud, eyes red and fangs sharp. The girl is petrified, her fear flows into him, and it’s _safe_ and _normal_ and it feels so good he can’t breathe properly.

He’s not human. He will never be. This is what he really is, a creature designed to strike fear into the hearts of mortals, to kill them in all sorts of interesting and inventive ways. Taking blood like this is what he is designed for, it’s what he’s done for a thousand years now, and it’s what he’ll continue doing for a thousand more. He just doesn’t see how he can live in two ways, taking blood from Jaehyo gently, without pain or fear, and taking blood from others, making them terrified. It can’t be, it’s not meant to be, and a great sorrow fills him, even as the girl’s life force is streaming into him. It’s not meant to be.

//

The next day he wakes and lies on his back in bed, blinking up at the ceiling, trying to clear the grogginess from his mind.

His reservations from last night still linger around him. It’s not meant to be. It _can’t_ be. But when he tries to think about leaving – packing his bags and driving until he can’t drive anymore, leaving Jaehyo and his big brown eyes behind – he can’t focus on it: the image turns blurry and hazy. It’s not possible.

He’s in too deep now.

He swings out of bed and pads into the kitchen, surprised to see Jaehyo at the hob, shirtless, pan in hand as he cooks.

“Morning.” Jaehyo smiles. “I’m making breakfast. Or is it dinner?”

Jihoon slides into a chair and watches, admiring the way Jaehyo’s back muscles tense and ripple as he moves, lithe and graceful. “Why?”

Jaehyo turns and winks. “Dunno. Why not? I haven’t had bacon in ages.”

 _Bacon_. Yum. Jihoon starts salivating as Jaehyo places a plate in front of him, loaded with bacon and eggs, tomatoes and sausages. “What did I do to deserve this?” He asks, tucking in.

Jaehyo slips into the seat across from him and snatches a piece of bacon from his plate. “Nothing. It’s a gesture of affection.” He shrugs, before cocking his head to the side quizzically, and is it Jihoon’s imagination, or are his eyes just a little red? “You fed last night.”

Jihoon nearly chokes on a piece of bacon, but manages to swallow it. “How can you tell?”

Closing his eyes, Jaehyo smiles. “I can feel it.”

Jihoon frowns. This is new, and he knows that somehow it’s linked to his blood, which is still flowing through Jaehyo. He knows because he can _feel_ it, feel that he’s connected to Jaehyo, like a piece of his soul now resides within the human. This isn’t something he ever expected, or even _wanted_ , and now he’s stuck with it – just another facet in the ever-increasing dilemma of Jaehyo.

“We can’t do that again.” He says, a bit sharper than intended.

Jaehyo’s eyes snap open. “Why not? I feel amazing. I feel… I feel light, and powerful, like I could do anything.”

Jihoon shoves his plate away and stands up. “Because you shouldn’t feel like that. You’re a fucking mortal, you don’t get that kind of power. It’s earned, not taken. This wasn’t meant to happen.”

Jaehyo stands up too, leaning over the table. “Are you… _threatened_ by me, Jihoon?” He asks, eyes glittering dangerously.

With a snarl, Jihoon grows a little taller, his power crackling around him like lightning. He grabs Jaehyo by the throat and pulls him closer, over the table, sending the plates scattering onto the floor. Jaehyo’s eyes go wide, but he doesn’t let go, just growls in the human’s face.

“You are not like me. You will never be like me.” He barks, shoving Jaehyo backward, and walking away without a backwards glance.

//

He ends up on the riverbank, lying on his back, staring up at the stars, wondering if they have any kind of guidance for him.

One thing he knows for certain: if this relationship is to continue (which it will, he knows – he loves Jaehyo far too much now to ever walk away) he can’t give Jaehyo blood again. Already he’s changed, his eyes less brown and more red, his voice changing, even his attitude a lot more confrontational than usual. He doesn’t know if it’s permanent, or temporary. He doesn’t know why Jaehyo can tell if he’s fed or not, and he doesn’t know why he can feel Jaehyo, all the time – it’s like he’s constantly tapped into the way he is feeling, even though he isn’t scared.

He’s in, now, way too far in over his head. Now he knows why relationships with humans and vampires are doomed – he faces an impossible dilemma. Leave, or kill Jaehyo, and he’ll have that on his conscience for the rest of eternity. He can’t stay, because Jaehyo will grow old and die, and the thought of watching that hurts too much to bear.

He’s trapped, and he knows, he _knows_ in his cold, dead heart that he should just kill Jaehyo and get it over and done with, be free of this nonsense. But the human side of him – the stupid, compassionate, affectionate, amorous side of him that was reawakened the other night – refuses to let him to that.

So he gets up and starts the long walk back to the apartment, back to Jaehyo’s waiting arms, back to apologise for the monster inside of him.

//

“I want to see how you hunt.” Jaehyo blurts one day, as they’re getting progressively more drunk in Jihoon’s study.

Jihoon throws back a shot and shakes his head. “That’s not a good idea.”

Thankfully, when he’d returned that night, Jaehyo was back to his normal self, apologetic and repentant, his eyes back to their usual deep, chocolate brown. They haven’t spoken of it since, and life had continued as normal – well, as normal as things could be, considering the circumstances.

Jihoon can still feel Jaehyo though, at all times, and he knows for a fact that Jaehyo can feel him. It’s unnerving, but he tries to ignore it and push it away, tries to focus on being as human as he can, to embrace this small insanity that they’re calling love for as long as he can.

“Why?” Jaehyo asks. “It’s just biting someone’s neck. I’ve seen it before.”

He shakes his head, and the room starts to spin a little bit. “It’s not that. I… to get the most life force out of someone, to really drain them, I have to scare them.”

“Scare them?” Jaehyo cocks his head.

“Scare them.” He confirms, nodding. “Scare the ever-living shit out of them. Make them beg for their life. Make them think I’m going to torture them, or kill them, or worse. I play on their deepest fears, the things they’ve hidden away for no one else to see. I toy with them. It’s not very nice.”

Jaehyo’s eyes light up. He’s displayed a profound interest in learning about all things vampire, and Jihoon often finds him on the computer, late at night, doing research. “It sounds fascinating. What happens if you drink from someone who isn’t scared?”

He shrugs. “I get a little bit of a yield, but not much. I mainly just get their blood.”

“So… the blood isn’t what you live off. It’s the life force.” Jaehyo mutters. “Interesting. What happens when you drink from me?”

Aah. He should have known that question was coming. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair and leans an elbow on the desk, unsure of how to answer. “I get… a different kind of life force. It’s lighter, more subtle, and full of positive emotions, like love, and devotion.”

Jaehyo smiles. “That sounds beautiful.”

“It feels amazing.” Jihoon admits, winding his fingers in Jaehyo’s. “I’m not doing it again, though. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Jaehyo straddles him, the weight of him hot and heavy in Jihoon’s lap. His eyes are opened wide, and his hand tugs at Jihoon’s hair. “It doesn’t hurt.” He whispers, leaning down to kiss Jihoon, leaving them both panting. “It feels amazing.”

Jihoon grabs Jaehyo by the ass and pulls him closer, and down, so Jaehyo grinds down on his cock, and, almost in sync, their heads fall back, Jaehyo exposing his throat, his hair falling behind him like a wave.

“I want to feel you.” Jaehyo whispers in his ear, before kissing him again, and Jihoon can feel his lust and need, and he whines a little bit, lifting his hips.

“Jaehyo –” He says, starting to explain all the reasons why this would be a bad idea, but Jaehyo just kisses him again, leaving him breathless and panting and itching with need and desire.

Jaehyo touches his face, his hand fluttering over his cheekbones, nose, eyelids. “Please, Jihoon. Touch me.”

They move in each other that night, naked and writhing, limbs curling around each other. Jaehyo looks at him with so much love and affection that he has to look away; when he comes, gasping and arching into Jihoon’s hand, he swears he hears a whispered “I love you”. He shuts Jaehyo up with a crushing kiss, unable to hear those words, unable to comprehend them just yet, losing himself in the feel of Jaehyo’s mouth and, when he bites Jaehyo’s neck, the feeling of Jaehyo’s love for him.


	12. twelve

“Are you ready for this?” Jihoon asks as they wait outside the club, smoking cigarettes, his power unleashed so he appears, to mortal eyes, beautiful and god-like.

Jaehyo looks at him and blows a smoke ring. “Yeah. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think I was up to it.”

Jihoon throws his cig away and grinds it into the ground with his shoe. This whole outing is making him uncomfortable, but Jaehyo had insisted, and he couldn’t say no, even if he has a sinking feeling in his stomach about it. “Are you sure? I’m going to look pretty fucking scary, you know.”

Jaehyo shrugs and puts his cigarette out, too. “I’ll deal. How are you going to play this?”

“Follow my lead.” Jihoon says, grimly, using subtle shapeshifting to change his features a little bit before heading into the club.

They dance, both separate and apart, just enjoying the music and atmosphere. Jihoon loves clubs, he loves the way they encourage hedonism, loves the way all those bodies wind and move, so fluid and lithe, like a river, flowing freely. He spends most of his time watching Jaehyo, though, who is an excellent dancer, and soon he is hard and salivating, wishing he could whisk Jaehyo away to a back room and have his way with him. But that’s not what he’s here for, so he reluctantly looks away, soon selecting a demure girl standing awkwardly in the corner.

He watches for a little bit, trying to get a fix on her. She’s here with a couple of her more adventurous friends who are dancing with guys, not too far away, encouraging her to join them. She’s young (even though he’s not good at judging mortal ages – they all look either young or old to him – he can tell this girl is only around twenty), pretty, and this is her first time at a club. Not a big drinker, judging by the way her eyes are still sharp and shrewd. Probably a university student who is big on the studying and not on the partying.

He sidles up to her, offering up a gentle smile. “First time here?”

She blushes. “Is it really that obvious?”

He shrugs, leaning back on the wall, hand brushing her thigh. “Yeah. You don’t seem like the type.”

He spots Jaehyo, who is watching him carefully; with a subtle shake of the head, he indicates for him to stay where he is. _Not yet_. If this is going to work, he has to use his aura to draw her in, and for the moment, Jaehyo has to wait for his turn.

Her pupils widen as she looks up at him, his aura having its full effect on her, drawing her in, closer. He’s always sort of wondered why his power appears, to mortals, as irresistible: wouldn’t it make more sense to make it frightening? Perhaps it’s to gain their trust, so that he can rip it away later, increasing the fear even more. Whatever it is, the girl shifts a little bit closer.

“And what is ‘the type’?” She asks, playfully, looking down and back up through her lashes and Jihoon knows he’s got her.

“Dunno.” He pauses and looks around the crowd, considering. “Cheap. Rich. Bored.”

She frowns. “And what do _I_ seem like?”

“Intelligent. Unsure. Also bored.” He looks down at her and smiles.

She laughs at that, leaning forward, closer to Jihoon. “That’s true. I am bored. My friends dragged me out, but this isn’t really my crowd.” _Bingo_. He was spot on.

“I’m Jihoon.” He says, offering her his hand to shake. “Let me buy you a drink, miss…?”

“Minhee.” She smiles back at him. “That would be lovely.”

He grins and pushes forward off the wall, heading towards the bar, making eye contact with Jaehyo and inclining his head to beckon him closer. He navigates around people and turns a corner, so he’s out of Minhee’s line of sight, and waits for Jaehyo to follow him.

“You know, I never thought seeing you flirt with some girl would make me jealous.” Jaehyo grumbles as he rounds the corner and pushes Jihoon back up against the wall. “But it does.”

“Mmm.” Jihoon mumbles as Jaehyo kisses him fiercely. “I didn’t know you were protective of me.”

Jaehyo grins and bites Jihoon’s lower lip. “Just a bit. So what’s the plan?”

//

He returns to Minhee with her drink and they talk for a little while longer. She’s not going to be an easy one, but that’s okay – sometimes he likes a challenge. He could have walked in and out with someone in twenty minutes, but tonight, he feels like drawing this out, somehow enjoying the way Jaehyo gets progressively more and more jealous as he gets more and more physical with Minhee.

“Hey, I know this great little jazz club in Hongdae, if you want to get out of here.” He says, putting his hand on her arm.

She looks up at him, completely star struck. “That’d be great!”

They spill out of the club laughing, and he curls his arm around Minhee’s shoulders and pulls her close. “Let’s head out, eh?”

//

“What was that?” Jihoon asks, staring behind him at something.

Minhee whirls around, and Jihoon can hear her heart starting to race. “What was what?”

Jihoon knows it’s just Jaehyo, following them and making noises to spook her, but he plays along. “I thought I heard something.”

They pause and listen, the sounds of car horns in the distance breaking the silence. No other noises come and he shrugs. “Must have been nothing.”

They continue walking, and Minhee returns to her conversation about medical school, telling him how hard it is. She doesn’t need to know that he’s completed medical school, twice, so he nods along, asking questions here and there. She really is as innocent and bookish as she looks, focused on her studies and her family.

This time, there is the definite noise of footsteps behind them, running towards them, but when Minhee whirls around, there’s no one there. Jihoon pulls her close, shutting off his power, and looks down at her. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

She looks behind him, eyes searching the street. “I’m scared, Jihoon.” She whispers, but it’s redundant: her life force is flowing into him something strong now.

Jaehyo creeps up behind her and taps her on the shoulder, before scurrying backwards into the darkness, and she whirls around, eyes searching for something that’s not there, heart pounding.

He can feel her uneasiness. Jihoon is not reacting the way a human would, and now that his aura is gone, he feels cold and distant. When she looks up at him, he lets his eyes glow red and his fangs run out and he feels her fear paralyse her as she realises the trap she’s fallen in.

“What are you?” She breathes, eyes flicking from Jihoon to Jaehyo, who is coming up behind him.

“Your worst nightmare.” He smirks.

//

“You didn’t kill her.” Jaehyo says, lighting the cigarette and passing it to Jihoon, who inhales gratefully.

“No need to. I don’t need that much blood these days.” He says shakily, looking down at Minhee, who has passed out.

He senses that something has changed between him and Jaehyo. This is his every day, this is part of who he is, and he’s invited Jaehyo in to see it, and he gets the feeling he didn’t like what he saw. He turns, half expecting Jaehyo to start making excuses to leave, but he steps closer and cups Jihoon’s cheek.

“I can see why you’re good at what you do.” Jaehyo says, smiling as he grabs the cigarette from Jihoon’s lips. “Let’s take her home, yeah?”

Jihoon frowns. “You’re not disgusted? You’re not going to leave me?”

Jaehyo leans down and picks up Minhee easily, slinging her over his shoulder, the remnants of vampire strength coming in handy now. He gives Jihoon a withering look. “I’m not leaving you for anything. I thought you would have figured that out by now.”

A great warmth swells in Jihoon, threatening to burst out of his pores and flood both of them. “I’ll never leave you, either.” He tells Jaehyo honestly.

He can’t wipe the grin off his face as he riffles through Minhee’s wallet to find her address. He has hope – hope that this will all be okay, hope that they’ll last. He’s never been this happy before.


	13. thirteen

Jihoon is puzzling over the movements of a particular vampire, who is visiting all the way from Europe, when Jaehyo pops his head in to say he’s going out to get groceries.

“Fine.” Jihoon shoots back, his mind focused on the vampire.

They often get vampires from western countries, wanting to visit the very place that is at the forefront of technology. As vampires are immortal, they have to continue to evolve and adapt and keep up with the trends; he knows for a fact that there are ‘Technology 101’ classes, aimed specifically at vampires, to teach them how to use smartphones and computers. That doesn’t stop some, however, from bucking the trends and living, uncivilised, in huts in mountain ranges or in forests.

He hardly realises just how long he paces around his study, scribbling notes and comparing them to previous ones, until he looks up and sees the sky has started to lighten.

Jaehyo isn’t back.

Jaehyo went out hours ago.

Where is Jaehyo?

He bursts into the kitchen, sending up a flare of power so bright he’s sure vampires all over Seoul feel it. Jaehyo doesn’t come running, though, and as he looks around, he quickly realises Jaehyo isn’t in the apartment.

Roaring, he grabs the nearest object and flings it across the room. It’s a glass, and it’s satisfying to watch it shatter against the wall. It’s nearly dawn, and Jaehyo isn’t back, he can’t go out looking in case he gets caught out, _fuck!_ Things were going so well for them, he was finally happy, and now something’s happened to Jaehyo –

There’s a knock on the door, and with a shock he feels a familiar, vampiric signature. The others don’t hang out at his apartment anymore, mainly because Jaehyo hates it, and it unnerves them, anyway. Even so, when they want to come round, they just let themselves in, they don’t _knock_. He snarls and pulls it wide open, but the signature is gone, and –

Jaehyo’s lifeless body is crumpled at his feet, and his heart shatters, completely and totally – he is no more.

He’s only vaguely aware of his movements. He’s floated somewhere far away, some safe place, distant in his mind, as his body makes the movements it needs to. He scoops up Jaehyo and brings him inside, kicking the door shut behind him, taking him into the bedroom and ripping off his shirt to examine the wound. He’s been stabbed, once in the stomach, a wide, deep wound that is clean from dirt or debris. Desperately, he licks the wound over and over, but his saliva can’t do anything; Jaehyo’s heart isn’t beating, isn’t healing, Jaehyo is _dead_.

He’s sobbing now, he realises, belatedly, crimson tears dripping down his face hideously. Jaehyo can’t be dead. He _can’t_ be. He half-heartedly presses on Jaehyo’s chest once, twice, but he doesn’t know CPR, not really, and is too scared to do it wrong in case he break Jaehyo’s ribs. He can only do one thing.

Keening still, his tears leaving salty tracks down his face, he bites his own wrist, over and over, gnawing at his own flesh until he is raw and bloody, the ruby liquid flowing out of him steadily. He gently opens Jaehyo’s mouth, and lets his blood drip into it; it does nothing, Jaehyo still isn’t breathing, so he smears his own blood in Jaehyo’s wound, willing it to heal, willing something to happen, _anything_. Nothing does, there’s no movement, and Jaehyo is starting to grow cold.

His sorrow and grief overcomes him and he does the one thing he knows he can, even if it’s a huge risk. He has no other choice. As much as it hurts him, as much as it feels like he is injuring himself, he tears into Jaehyo’s chest, cracking open his ribs and exposing his heart. Too scared to touch it, he bites his wrist again and lets his blood run down, onto Jaehyo’s beautiful heart, the heart that holds so much love for him, the heart that lies cold and still –

It starts beating.

Jihoon can hardly breathe, he doesn’t dare to, lest this is a trick of his mind and he’s hallucinating; but no, as Jaehyo’s heart starts reacting to Jihoon’s blood, it starts up a weak rhythm. Biting himself again – his healing is starting to slow, now, he’s never lost this much blood – he drips more and more onto his heart, watching the wounds start to close, the flesh beginning to knit together until he is whole again, the colour starting to come back to his face, his breathing starting up again.

His eyes flutter open, and Jihoon hardly cares that they’re crimson, because it’s Jaehyo and Jaehyo is still alive – and Jaehyo is still _human_ , his heart is still beating, he’s still warm and alive and he sobs, burying his face in Jaehyo’s shoulder, gasping and shuddering.

“Jihoon?” Jaehyo asks, full of wonder. “What happened?”

Jihoon can’t speak, he can’t move, he can’t do anything except cry a deluge of bloody tears onto Jaehyo, thanking God for his second chance.

//

This time, it takes a week before Jaehyo returns to normal.

When Jaehyo had fainted, Jihoon had gathered him up and rushed him to the nearest hospital, demanding he need a blood transfusion; Jihoon at his angriest is someone to be listened to, and once the doctors had examined Jaehyo, they had hooked him up, pumping litres of blood – safe, human blood – into him.

The sun had risen, by then, and his skin was starting to burn, the smoke curling in the air. As much as it hurt to leave Jaehyo, he had retreated to the morgue underneath the hospital – how fitting – and passed out, hoping no one would come in and disturb him in the 12 or so hours he was asleep.

When they had returned home, Jaehyo had avoided him for a week, his eyes glowing crimson the entire time, eating raw steaks and keeping to himself.

“What happened to me?” Jaehyo asks on the seventh day, his voice small.

Jihoon turns and his knees go weak. It’s Jaehyo, _his_ Jaehyo, eyes chocolate brown and hair flopping into his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I feel like I just woke up from a strange dream.” Jaehyo says, stepping closer, hesitantly. “Everything is all fuzzy.”

Jihoon sits heavily in a chair. “Why don’t you tell me what you remember?”

Jaehyo comes over and sits on his lap, and the physical contact is almost too much, and he nearly starts crying again, just at the feel of Jaehyo, _his_ Jaehyo, touching him once more. “I went to the grocery store, like I told you. When I was on the way back… they jumped me.”

“Vampires?” Jihoon asks, brushing the hair away from Jaehyo’s eyes and caressing his cheek.

Jaehyo nods. “There were three of them. They didn’t drink from me. They just threw me around for a while, and then one of them stabbed me, with a shard of glass. I don’t remember much after that.”

Jihoon leans his head on Jaehyo’s chest. “I guess they must have waited until you bled out, and then dumped you on my doorstep.”

“Then I woke up with you crying on my shoulder. You took me to the hospital, and they gave me blood… And I’ve spent the last week avoiding you. And eating raw steak, for some reason.” Jaehyo finishes, stroking Jihoon’s hair. “What happened?”

Jihoon starts from the beginning, to when he found Jaehyo dumped on his doorstep, to saving him, to taking him to the hospital, to the past week. It takes him a while, and he watches Jaehyo’s face carefully the entire time, in case he shows signs of having a mental breakdown at the deluge of information.

When he finishes, Jaehyo is silent, eyes closed as he processes the information. Jihoon fully expects him to get up, walk out of Jihoon’s life without a backward glance – this may have been a violation too much to bear – but instead Jaehyo looks down at him, wonder in his eyes.

“You did that for me?” He asks, taking Jihoon’s face in his hands.

“I would do anything for you.” Jihoon replies, honestly, and Jaehyo smiles and kisses him, and Jihoon feels his heart sing.

//

“Are you going to kill the ones that did that to me?” Jaehyo asks one day, apropos of nothing.

Jihoon shakes his head, turning away from the hob where he is cooking dinner for them both. “There’s no point. I don’t know who they are. And I’m tired of killing.”

Jaehyo comes up behind him and slides his arms around Jihoon’s waist, laying his body flush with the taller man’s. “You? Tired of killing? Impossible.” He teases, laying a kiss on Jihoon’s shoulder.

“I am.” Jihoon replies, turning around to kiss Jaehyo properly. “I want to live, now.”

//

Something has changed irreversibly between them. Perhaps it’s the knowledge that Jaehyo now has of just how close he was to becoming a vampire. Perhaps it’s the knowledge that Jihoon now carries with him, knowledge that he has fallen completely and utterly in love with Jaehyo, and would do anything for him. Or perhaps it’s just the knowledge, simple and true, that what they have cannot last.

Everyone is restless, and his hold on the city is slipping, day by day. He’s too powerful for anyone to challenge him directly, but people have stopped listening to him. Vampires who he’s known for years have dropped off the radar and stopped answering to him, and there are rumours abound that Jihoon has gone soft in the head, has fallen for his Helen of Troy. Jaehyo’s death was a message to him, and while he doesn’t know who sent it, he understands the meaning clearly. Every day, the threat to Jaehyo’s life grows more and more; he doesn’t let Jaehyo leave the apartment alone anymore, is too scared for what might happen.

He has what he really wants – Jaehyo – but he knows it won’t last long. It can’t. Jaehyo is fragile, he’s human, he’s easy to kill, and he has a target on his back.

His heart is full of sorrow. He’s so happy, so in love with Jaehyo – Jaehyo, who kisses him goodnight, and watches over him while he sleeps. Jaehyo, who teases him endlessly, Jaehyo, who conveys his love for Jihoon through looks and touches. Jaehyo, who is his world, who he could never bring himself to kill, never bring himself to harm.

He knows what he must do, knows that there’s one way out for the both of them. He honestly can’t see other solution. All he has to do now is wait for the right time.


	14. fourteen

“Tell me a story.” Jaehyo whispers, when they’re lying naked on the bed together, sweaty and sore after sex.

“What do you want to hear?” Jihoon whispers back.

Jaehyo hesitates and rolls over to face Jihoon. “Tell me about when you were human.”

Jihoon sucks in a breath. He hasn’t allowed himself to think of that time for a while now. He doesn’t like to – his parents, his family, are all long dead, having turned to dust in their graves centuries ago. It hurts, but Jaehyo wants to know, so he tells him.

“I was born here, in Korea, in the 11th century sometime. It was called Goryeo, back then, and we spoke an ancestor of modern Korean, called middle Korean. Buddhism was growing, and the schools for it were getting more powerful...”

He loses himself in the past, telling Jaehyo about his life growing up as a rich, spoilt child; he had one younger brother, and an older sister, and life was very good for all of them. He enlisted into the military when he was 18, and fought against the Mongols, who were warring with Goryeo for land. Eventually, once Jihoon was a vampire, they succeeded, with a huge invasion that tore apart the country.

“When were you… when did you transition?” Jaehyo asks, voice full of reverence.

“I was 22 when I transitioned. My maker was a woman named Chunja, and she was terrifying. She taught me how to be ruthless and fearless, and she made me the vampire I am today.”

“What happened to her?”

“I killed her.” Jihoon shrugs. “It’s sort of tradition, that the younger vampire kills the master, and it’s why there’s such a big reluctance to make new vampires. It actually keeps our numbers in check.”

Jaehyo smiles. “It sounds ruthless. And very fitting of vampires, actually, from all I’ve experienced of them.”

Jihoon grins and pounces on Jaehyo, kissing him until they’re both breathless. “I don’t want to live in the past.” He whispers, and Jaehyo nods, pulling him close for another kiss.

//

He knows it’s time, even as his heart breaks, as his whole body is heavy with guilt and sorrow. He presses a kiss to Jaehyo’s lips, admiring how beautiful he looks as he sleeps, and slides out of bed, leaving the sleeping human alone as he pads into his bedroom and pulls on his clothes.

He honestly can’t see any other way to save them both except to do what he is about to do. Jaehyo will live, and the vampires will lose interest in him, and the world will be right again.

He sits down at the kitchen table and pens a short letter, knowing that words can’t even begin to express the anguish and love he feels at this moment – in such contrast to each other that he feels a bit sick – but he tries anyway, tries to explain to Jaehyo why, tries to give him words to hold close after.

After.

He doesn’t want to think about after, about the way Jaehyo will hurt, about how he’s going to break Jaehyo’s heart. This is the best for both of them, he’s sure, he knows it. This will free them both. He sits at the table, rereads his letter, makes sure it will suffice.

It’s getting close now, the sky is beginning to lighten, so he heads up to the roof of the apartment building and settles in, cross legged, facing towards the east, and waits.

A million thoughts run through his head as he does so, and at one point, he nearly gets up and goes back downstairs. The thought of being without Jaehyo is too much to bear, but still he sits, knowing that this is the right choice, as the sky turns from navy to a pale purple. Still he sits as the sun creeps closer and closer to the horizon, until the first rays begin to stream through the sky, making his skin smoke.

All the while, while he waits, images of Jaehyo play on a loop in his head: Jaehyo, covered in Jiho’s blood, chin raised in defiance; Jaehyo, his arm around a girl, laughter lighting him up from the inside; Jaehyo, so full of peace even when his life was being drained from him; Jaehyo, tugging at his arm, standing against a god; Jaehyo, loving him, kissing him, just being with him.

God, it hurts. Tears streak their way down his cheeks as the sun rises higher and higher, threatening to burst over the horizon altogether, his skin crisping up now. He’s in agony, but his heart is singing – he is free. Finally, he is free, never having to hurt another human being again, never having to kill again.

The door to the roof opens and Jaehyo comes spilling out, still dressed in his pyjamas, the letter close to his chest, a wordless wail spilling out of his mouth as he sees Jihoon. He creeps closer, tentatively, but Jihoon shakes his head, his skin blistering and cracking as he does so. “Don’t.”

“You said you wouldn’t leave me.” Jaehyo sobs. “Don’t leave me, please.”

Jihoon turns his head to look at Jaehyo, just as the sun emerges, glorious and huge into the sky. “I love you, Jaehyo.”

“No.” Jaehyo cries, falling to his knees.

“I love you.” He whispers again, and turns his head to face his death, going bravely into the dawn.


	15. epilogue

_Dear Jaehyo,_

Jaehyo has tried to move on. Really, he has.

_I can’t even begin to express how much you have changed me for the better._

But how can he? Where can he go, who can he talk to? No one understands. And how could they?

_When you met me, I was twisted, and bitter. I was a vampire, through and through, slaughtering people and enjoying every minute of it. My life consisted of killing and running my city._

It’s not like there’s a support group, is there? ‘Humans Who Fell In Love With Vampires Anonymous.’ He has nowhere to turn.

_You changed me, worming your way underneath my skin with your smiles and the way you looked at me, showing me what love was, how to feel it again._

It’s been a year. Grief is meant to go away, isn’t it? It’s meant to fade, to pass, so he can get on with his life. But it hasn’t. So he can’t.

_In the past year I have spent with you, I felt more alive than I ever have in the past thousand years of my existence._

He couldn’t bring himself to go back to uni when the holidays ended. He didn’t have the heart. It was too normal. His life is anything but normal now.

_You brightened me. You saw my soul for what it was and embraced it, and me, totally and fully._

Jihoon left him the apartment, but he can’t go back there. It still smells like him, still feels like him, and it leaves him feeling empty inside.

_I wish I could stay with you like this forever. But I can’t. I can’t change you into a vampire, because then you wouldn’t be you._

Not that that’s hard. Everything leaves him feeling empty inside these days.

_In being with you, I have introduced to you so much danger, such horror that no one should ever have to see. I have made you a target._

Even alcohol doesn’t help. He can’t drink any of Jihoon’s poncy bourbon without breaking down into tears, and anything else makes him feel sick.

_I am so, so sorry for that. I never wanted you to get hurt. I never wanted you to die._

He spends most of his days in bed, the words from Jihoon’s letter running through his head, over and over, replaying like some kind of sick joke that’s stuck on repeat.

_Which is why I must leave you._

Why did Jihoon leave him?

_I have lived long enough. It is my time._

They could have seen so much, done so much together.

_You are my world. You are my soul. You are my everything, and without you, I would not be the person I am today._

Some days, Jaehyo is bitter and angry, vampiristic rage filling him.

_I love you, more than angels love God, more than humans love to sin, more than vampires love fear. More than anything, I love you._

Others, he is empty.

_I will never stop loving you._

Some rare days, he has hope.

_As I go to the sun, I know in my heart I am doing the right thing for both of us._

Hope that maybe he’ll start to heal, hope that maybe, just maybe, he will feel something one day, something other than rage, or sadness.

_Forever yours,_

“Jihoon.” He whispers, head tilted back to stare at the stars, sorrow clenching his heart like a vice.

_Pyo Jihoon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yahoo that's the end I hope you enjoyed


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